


Real

by The_Hawk_Eye



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Hallucinations, Loneliness, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Series, Regret, Survivor Guilt, ghost - Freeform, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24023200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Hawk_Eye/pseuds/The_Hawk_Eye
Summary: Since he abandoned all was left of his people and ship, Francis realized he had to leave his beliefs behind as well. He was scared but the moment he did it, he felt better. And that night, the night he renounced to everything, was the first time he felt that warm presence around him.
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	Real

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I just watched the Terror and I'm emotional and a mess because I couldn't stop and I watched it in one day and... I regret it now. Everything hurts and I wasn't ready even though I knew everybody was going to die. And this is the only way for me to deal with my pain.
> 
> English is not my first language so I'm really sorry for the mistakes.

Francis looks around him. He knows he is alone, but sometimes he has the feeling of being watched, followed. It is crazy but he can’t shake that odd feeling. Francis is not bothered by it exactly; he feels less lonely during those moments. This is a strange land; his God has no place here. His faith doesn’t mean anything here. Since he abandoned all was left of his people and ship, Francis realized he had to leave his beliefs behind as well. He was scared but the moment he did it, he felt better. And that night, the night he renounced to everything, was the first time he felt that warm presence around him.

The presence soothes his pain and for a moment all his wounds are completely healed. It is like there is someone next to him, keeping him company and taking care of him. The Eskimos are good people and well-natured but Francis can’t help feeling alone around them from time to time. And when that happens, he feels it; the presence next to him. It is comforting.

That night, like many other nights, when this happens, his feet are cold and Francis has to cover them better. Francis knows what that means, but he is scared of being wrong and he remains in silence looking at the nothing. Sometimes, Francis wants to start talking but he never dares. Francis wants to believe he knows what that means, but he is terrified of being wrong.

He is scared but he is not sure of what.

Of being alone?

Or the opposite?

What if the presence talks back?

What if the only response he has is the silence?

Francis is not sure what is more terrifying.

To be right?

Or wrong?

To have him?

Or to be alone?

Thus, he closes his eyes and sighs. He doesn’t know what to do. Is he losing his mind? After everything, he had to endure? When he opens his eyes, he is still alone in the tent. It is warmer now and Francis is incapable of denying there is… He wants to believe he is here with him. He needs to believe this is real.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles completely frightened. “I couldn’t save you. I couldn’t protect your body…” Francis touches briefly the fur around his calf. He should have made him invisible to that damn ghoulish. “I’m sorry.” Francis closes his eyes and covers his face with his hands. He is so ashamed. He should have done it better. He should have protected him better. James deserved better. Suddenly, his voice echoes in his mind; James doesn’t blame him for anything. James is happy for him. God wanted him to live, the sentence resounds inside him. James doesn’t specify which God is he talking about.

It feels good.

“I miss your stories.” He states. He complained for a long time about his stories, but now he misses them terribly. “I used to ridicule you… privately, even though I enjoyed them. You are… were an astounding storyteller.” He corrects himself. He gulps with some difficulties. It is hard, talking while James’ voice echoes in his mind. Nonetheless, Francis keeps talking.

It is liberating.

He talks all night long. He remembers James’ stories in China and Namibia, his favourites. Francis remembers the way James used to modulate his voice and the way he used to move his hands to create expectation among his audience. And Francis feels less alone that night while talking to his… the presence. At dawn, Francis realizes he never stopped talking that night. He has missed him so much. He looks through the fabric of his tent and sees the first ray of sun. He smiles and he is about to say something when the presence is gone and Francis is cold. His smile fades and, for one second, he is worried about not feeling him anymore.

Francis doesn’t have time to dwell on that thought when he has to start his journey along with his companions. That night, he doesn’t feel James’ presence by his side, nor the night after, or the night after that. Francis tries not to think about… he can’t lose him. He can’t lose… He doesn’t know exactly what he is losing, but he knows he can’t live without it. A week passes until he feels his warm presence next to him. Francis looks around him and, for the first time, he can see James. Francis can see James with his white coat sitting on the ground in front of him, his long legs crossed with no boots to protect his feet. Francis wants to apologise for that.

“It’s fine.” James’ voice sounds real. Francis is paralyzed. His voice is not an echo. It sounds loud and steady. James smiles at him. And Francis can see the happiness, the pain, the sorrow in his soft smile. Francis doubts about what he is hearing and seeing. Is he losing his mind?

Is he becoming crazy?

Are the guilt and sorrow eating him alive?

Making him lose his mind?

Francis’ body trembles at that thought. After everything, he is just a man. He is not special.

“I’m never cold when I’m here.” James chuckles. He seems blissful looking at him. Francis smiles back at him. Who cares? He asks himself. Who cares if he is losing his mind? If this is a hallucination or a ghost or… Who cares right now? “Francis,” He calls him gently. “I’m real.”

It could be just his mind reassuring this dream, this madness.

But who cares?

He has been yearning for hearing his name from his lips again. He has been aching for his absence since the moment he lost him. And now, he has him again. And this can be an illusion, a representation of his desires and grief. Or this can be real, this land has gifted him one last time granting him with the company of the man he considers more than a brother, more than anything. Therefore, Francis decides to believe this is real.

James is real.

“Will you stay?” He has to ask breathlessly. He needs to know James will be by his side. He won’t be able to live without him now.

“I promise.”

“Say it again.” Francis wants to hear his name again. He needs to hear it one more time. His name always sounded so special and precious when it came out from James' lips, there was a fondness in his deep voice that he has missed dreadfully for weeks. And he needs to hear it again.

“Francis.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it.
> 
> Comments and kudos are welcome!
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://the-hawk-eye-fics.tumblr.com/)


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